The Academy of Resiliency

If I will be very honest with myself, I would say that resilience is a character trait that was not really developed that well in me as I was growing up. While my life has not been a bed of roses, I would say that the difficulties I have gone through pales in comparison to what others may have experienced.

As a student, I generally had a smooth-sailing journey, and pretty much every subject was finished with decent grades. Though I am not necessarily the best or the brightest, my diligence has paid off and has brought me quite far in life. With this, there were not too many opportunities to train me in the Academy of Resiliency.

As I continued on though, before graduating from high school, came my most painful loss yet, the passing of my dad. I was not exactly best in resilience that time either, since I did not have the chance to grieve his death right away. I pretended to be strong, because I thought that was the right thing to do. Life goes on, so they say.

College came, and I studied diligently, as expected. I’ve had my share of failed quizzes and exams, stresses and sleepless nights. I could not count how many times I worried, cried and lost hope, whether it’s because of an academic mishap or an uncontrollable situation for an event we organized. I remember how anxious I was because of the typhoons and class suspensions that forced cancellations and postponements of events our organization headed back then.

As I went to the corporate world, every single issue at work meant heightened stress. I envy those who can compartmentalize and can leave work in their office desks. My mind works the moment I open my eyes, until the second my head hits the pillow. Every challenge, every struggle, every failure was a reminder that I am not resilient enough to bounce back.

Years later, as I got married, all the more I realized that maybe it is an understatement to say that I have zero resilience, because in reality, maybe I have negative resilience. When I left the school I have known to be my family for seven years, and the church I literally grew up with for almost two decades, I felt so alone. Some people told me back then, “Jen, be excited to try new things. How will you grow if you stay in your comfort zone?” Truth be told, I was fine in my comfort zone, I was fine knowing what I was good at, and the things I was weak at, well, those were the new things I was not necessarily excited about. It made me believe that resilience is really not my thing.

As I went through more challenges, and anxiety got the better of me, more and more, I saw how elusive resiliency truly is. Day by day, I lost hope, and I came to a point when all I know was to give up so I can escape the pain, and the judgmental eyes of this world. Yes, everyone else was strong, I am the weakest. See? Negative resiliency!

Little did I realize though, that this situation will be my best training ground to develop a character that has been running away from me all my life. I have always been emotional and sensitive. I cry when I’m faced with a challenge beyond my abilities. I burst into tears as I approach major changes in life. Tears flow uncontrollably from my eyes when fear paralyzes me. I react and overreact when I fail, or make mistakes. I’m almost always walking on eggs, because I want to be perfect, no broken hearts, nor broken relationships. I sweep issues under the rug, because I hate conflict. I hate it so much that I am willing to suffer in silence, compromise, rather than discuss and rectify. I crumble at the moment any of my weaknesses are brought up in the daylight.

When the quarantine started last March, I was so anxious. Will my anxiety and suicidal thoughts be back with a vengeance? Will people see and highlight the things I don’t have or the things I cannot do? Will the things I’m lacking in be a big deal? Will my strengths be perceived as weaknesses? Will I get to talk to my friends? Will I still be in touch with the community? True enough, I had a major emotional breakdown early April. There was not a single incident that triggered it, but that overwhelming feeling of inadequacy, imperfection, and ugliness just crept in. And just then, again, I was convinced that maybe resiliency is a lesson I have yet to relearn.

Three months after, and I am seeing things in a new light. Do I really have zero, or worse, negative resilience? What if resilience is not shown by strong words and loud voices, but gentle voices with a firm principle? What if it is not just positivity, but using even negative emotions to empathize with those hurting? What if it is not the ability to stand up right away after a fall, but thinking why you fell and avoiding it from happening again? What if it is not saying that an issue is insignificant, but acknowledging it is real and dealing with it? What if it is not bouncing back or getting back in shape instantly, but taking time to work on rough edges? What if it is not instantaneous, but a long process that requires patience? What if it is not measured by the absence of tears, but the presence of hope? And what if resilience is not up to us, but a result of the grace of God?

I am not perfect. I am far from it. In fact, I will never be perfect. But through my imperfections, and yes, even through my low resilience, God’s faithfulness still shines through. The fact that I am alive today is a testament that His grace is real, even for us who are still learning to be more resilient.